


Holopidity

by charivari



Series: Holomatter Party [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Detective Nightbeat, Holoform(s), Lost Light stupidity, M/M, More boob humor, Mysterious Stranger - Freeform, Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 15:59:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4398173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion piece to Cinderella Effect. </p><p>Brainstorm and co. discuss the crew's general fascination with human femme avatars. Riptide (and Nightbeat) try to work out the identity of a mysterious human male avatar sitting alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holopidity

"Why are there so many human femme avatars?" Nautica asked.

Her own avatar was a human femme with spiky purple hair. But given she was a femme normally that didn't seem odd to her. It was the presence of so many other femme avatars at the holomatter party that seemed unusual.

"Ask Brainstorm," Skids replied. He was using the same avatar from Hedonia, "He designed them."

"Yes but I did allow input on gender," Brainstorm answered.

His own avatar was a human male of advanced age with wild white hair and moustache. It made him appear slightly crazed as he raised his finger dramatically in the air,

"I call it... The Boob Phenomenon."

"Boob?" Nautica echoed.

"Those thingies on your chest," Brainstorm gestured at them, "I believe they were the main draw for mecha choosing femme avatars. They seem to hold some sort of humorous curiosity."

He pointed out Rodimus in the crowd.

"Our Captain rejected his prototype twice because they weren't, quote, 'big enough'."

Nautica glanced down at her own, 

"I suppose they are sort of squishy," she smiled, "Though they're hardly armored plating. What is their function?"

"Biologically they deliver sustenance to infants," Brainstorm answered, "But they also stimulate sexual desire in males."

"Really?" Nautica stared at the squishy mounds, "They're considered attractive?"

"Yep. And the level of desire seems to coincide with the boob's mass."

"Wow humans are weird."

"I know right," Riptide piped up, "Give me a spike any cycle."

His avatar was male with a blue-tinged white Mohawk. 

"You wish Riptide," Getaway chuckled.

His avatar was also male, a yellow bandanna replacing his faceplate and his body imprisoned in chains. Riptide wasn't sure if that had been a part of the avatar or Getaway had simply added them to the outfit to show off.

"Hey," Riptide complained, "I get some."

"Yeah? From who?" Getaway turned to Skids, "Bomp?"

Skids shook his head.

Riptide folded his arms haughtily,

"Maybe I prefer to be discreet about my interface partners."

Yeah, his inner voice said, discreet about your complete lack of interface partners.

Shut up processor.

His inner monologue was interrupted by Nightbeat, 

"Sounds like a mystery just waiting to be solved."

He was wearing a cap and coat ensemble that Riptide didn't recognize. 

"Who are you supposed to be?"

"A detective of course," Nightbeat answered, "More specifically Sherlock Holmes. A famous literary character, created by the human author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."

He flourished the magnifying glass he held in his hand,

"Appropriate no? Now back to this mystery."

He regarded Riptide through the magnifying glass. Riptide got the horrible sense he was trying to detect traces of dried transfluid. He waved him away.

"My private life is not a mystery," he scowled, "If you want a mystery to solve, look over there."

He pointed to a lone male avatar sitting in a booth. Serious-faced in a black suit.

"I can't work out who is he is. Brainstorm?"

The weapons specialist chuckled,

"Oh no I'm not telling. You'll probably never guess anyway."

"That sounds like a challenge," Nightbeat said.

Nautica grabbed his arm,

"Don't go over and interrogate him," she reproached.

"Of course not," Nightbeat beamed at her, "I'll use process of elimination."

He pulled a notepad from his coat and started scribbling down designations.

Riptide rolled his avatar's optics,

"I'm just gonna go over and talk to him."

Maybe flirt a little too. That would teach Getaway.

The stranger saw him coming and flashed him such an intense look that Riptide almost scurried back to his friends. 

Megatron, was it Megatron?

It seemed unlikely Megatron would attend such a party, especially in such a slender form.

Admirably Riptide held firm to his course, though the stranger's aura of menace caused him to stutter in greeting,

"Hi."

The stranger glared for a moment.

"Hello," he said finally, coolly.

No offer of designation. The gap for Riptide to extend his own and perhaps gain the stranger's in return quickly came and went. 

With little else to go on, he went with small talk. 

"Cool party huh?"

The stranger grunted. 

"Uh, you here with anyone?" Riptide pressed on.

"What do you think?" the stranger drawled, then one slender brow arched, "You don't know who I am do you?"

"Er, not really," Riptide confessed.

The stranger shook his head,

"Primus, you Autobots are so bad at stealth and information gathering, it's embarrassing." A beat. "It's Ravage."

"Ravage?" 

Riptide stared at the avatar through new optics. Of course it was Ravage, dark hair and suit, the slightly sharpened teeth, the angular claw-like fingers.

"Yes," Ravage intoned, "What, are you surprised? Do you think my avatar should have been a domesticated Earth feline?"

Riptide held up his hands,

"No, not at all," he assured him, "It suits you."

Ravage gave him a sharp analytic look before staring down at his hands. He had them cupped in resemblance to paws. He flexed the fingers experimentally.

"I admit it is an intriguing experience, operating this frame," he said, "I always wondered what it would be like to..."

He halted suddenly.

"To what?" Riptide asked.

Ravage's optics flashed dangerously.

"Nothing." 

But he had revealed enough for Riptide to guess. 

"There's no shame in wanting to experience something different," he tried to reassure him.

"You should return to your friends," Ravage told him coldly. 

He hunched his shoulders and looked away. 

"I'd rather stay here," Riptide's answer made him turn back, "Keep you company."

"I don't need pity," Ravage hissed, "Especially from an Autobot."

"It's not pity," Riptide told him, "You're a member of this crew. We should get to know each other better."

Ravage's expression was full of disdain.

"As I mentioned before, your information gathering technique is severely lacking."

"It's not information gathering," Riptide corrected, "It's friendship."

Ravage was taken aback.

"Friendship?" he repeated, "With you?"

"Yeah."

Ravage's optics narrowed with suspicion.

"Why?"

Riptide smiled,

"Because you're probably a nice mech underneath all that claw-swiping and skulking in the shadows."

"You don't know me," Ravage scowled.

"But I want to," Riptide insisted, "The war's over Ravage. What have you got to lose?"

Ravage stared at him uncertainly. Slightly more promising than an automatic swipe with his claws. 

"I..." he began, only to interrupted by a shout from across the room.

"I've got it!" Nightbeat came running over, "Through process of elimination, I narrowed down this fellow's identity to two potential suspects. Megatron and Ravage. Ratchet was also unaccounted for. But I gained confirmation that he is not in attendance."

"Er, Nightbeat..." Riptide tried to interrupt but Nightbeat was too engrossed in his narration.

"It seemed unlikely to me that Megatron would choose such an unimposing form for his avatar, let alone attend the party at all, being notoriously reclusive. Not only that, the characteristics in body language lead me to believe, the owner of this avatar is indeed Ravage!"

Riptide and Ravage shared an annoyed glance.

"I know," Riptide deadpanned.

"Oh," Nightbeat's exuberant expression faltered, "You do?"

"Yes," Riptide said, "He told me."

Nightbeat pouted,

"He did? Well I, I still worked it out - correctly I might add."

"Congratulations," Ravage said sarcastically, "You must feel accomplished that you managed what Riptide did by simply approaching me."

"I," Nightbeat began sheepishly, "I think I hear Nautica calling me."

He retreated back to the main group. Riptide rolled his optics. 

Way to interupt his and Ravage's spark to spark, oh great Detective.

He turned back to Ravage,

"Where were we?" he sought to get the conversation back on track.

But Ravage rose from his seat.

"I believe I've had enough festivity for one cycle."

"But..." Riptide rose too.

Ravage's hand clamped down on his shoulder. Not painful, but firm.

"As much as I... appreciate your offer, friendship wouldn't work between us."

Rejection twisted in Riptide's spark. 

"Why, because I'm an Autobot?"

"No, because you're a hydrobot," Ravage surprised him by saying, "Cats and water don't mix."

He gave Riptide the slightest hint of a toothy smile before stalking away. 

Riptide was baffled.

Had that been a joke?

Ravage making a joke?

He smiled to himself.

Perhaps there was hope for the stowaway after all.


End file.
